


Loyalty

by Morpheus626



Category: The Pacific (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:02:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25062043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morpheus626/pseuds/Morpheus626
Summary: This is set in the Modern AU, though there’s nothing in particular to designate it that other than my saying so and that’s how it played out in my head as I wrote lol. In a particular version of the Modern AU where they live in the same city in Texas as Florence and Burgie.TW for allusions to suicide and PTSD, though nothing is mentioned real explicitly.Fic title comes from the Kendrick Lamar song, because he’s all I was listening to while I wrote this, and I figure the word fits the sort of idea/theme in this in a weird way. Particularly the line ‘all we ask is trust’ because trust is definitely a Topic in this one.
Relationships: Merriell "Snafu" Shelton/Eugene Sledge
Kudos: 4





	Loyalty

“He’s worried about you.” 

Snafu shrugged. “He shouldn’t bother.” 

Burgie sighed and dropped down onto the bar stool beside him. “You gotta stop this shit. The hell scared you now?” 

“The fuck do you mean?” 

Burgie damn near growled, mean, and he usually didn’t get that way with friends unless he was drinking, but he hadn’t touched the beer Snafu had ordered for him as soon as he saw him walk in. 

“You know very well ‘the fuck’ I mean, Merriell. You claim you want to be close, you want to be a good boyfriend, maybe even his husband someday? Then you gotta get over this gettin’ scared shit you do. Last time, you freaked out because he wanted you to go to some university function with him, and he went alone, and left early and called me in tears. Time before that, he tried to set up a nice vacation for y’all, that you both needed and deserved. You got scared he’d somehow fall in love with someone in that city that he’d meet, and claimed work wouldn’t give you the time off, and he knew that shit wasn’t true, and that hurt. So what is it this time?” 

“Like he doesn’t do the same shit to me.” 

Burgie sighed deeply. “I’m not saying he doesn’t. He does, and I need to talk to him about that too-” 

“Then go do it! If you’re so concerned with making this relationship your problem.” 

“Goddamn it, Merriell!” Burgie’s fist slammed the counter, and Snafu and half the club near them jumped a foot. “Shut the fuck up for two minutes, no more snide fucking come backs, and let me tell you what I see if you two dumb fucks break up for good.” 

He set his beer on the counter, and stared at Burgie. His friend’s face was red, his mouth twisted in a frown so angry it hurt to look at. Burgie had never been truly mad at him or Eugene, ever. 

“Before you two got together, y’all were messes. I know, cuz I’m the dumb ass that picked up every time one of you would call me, sobbing and scared and alone, which made me scared for you. And I knew if y’all got back together, it would be something like it was during the war, something good; two rocks adrift in a sea that can drift together and find shore, or break apart and let the surf wear them to nothing. Together, you both find shore. Apart…” 

Burgie sighed. “That’s why I urged y’all to meet up again. I knew I’d be attending funerals if I didn’t, and I can’t take another one. Another service revolver that should have been taken away but wasn’t, and another mother asking me if I’ll come over and help clean the wall in her boy’s room because the father can’t stomach it and she can’t bear to do it alone.” 

“My parents are dead.” 

“So then I’d be cleaning your bedroom wall alone,” Burgie replied. “I won’t do it, Merriell. For you or Sledge. You’re both better and smarter than you’ve been acting, in general and with each other.” 

“It isn’t that easy-” 

“You think I don’t fuckin’ know that? What the fuck do you think Florence and I talk about in therapy when we do our sessions together? We go over that shit, what scares us, what we worry about with each other, and you know what we find out every time?” 

Snafu shrugged.

“That our fears are irrational, borne of trauma and confusion and other things in our lives we hadn’t come to terms with yet. I’m not saying therapy would solve everything, but I gave Sledge the number for ours. She does Skype sessions, though they cost a bit more, in case y’all ever move like you keep talkin’ about. It might be worth it for you both.” 

He shrugged again, and bore holes into his beer as he stared at it. 

“I know you don’t wanna break up with Sledge, and I know he doesn’t wanna break up with you. You wanna know why?” 

The tears burned at the corners of his eyes, and he couldn’t respond. 

“Because neither of y’all ever pack a bag, or even take your fucking wallet with you. You didn’t this time, did you? Just a few twenties to pay for the drinks, right?” 

Snafu pulled the two twenties and fifty out of his jeans pocket and showed it to him, then put it back. 

“See? And then one or both of y’all call me and ask me to talk to one or both of y’all, and I come by to help you, and as soon as you both sit and talk through what weird shit is in your heads, you feel better and things go back to normal. You just gotta do that with each other, without me. Or with the therapist, but definitely gotta learn to do it without a third party too. It isn’t actually difficult, exactly. It’s just…being vulnerable.” 

“What if he doesn’t like me like that?” 

Burgie’s eyes softened, and the frown disappeared. “Why wouldn’t he?” 

Snafu shrugged. “I don’t like me like that. It feels weird to cry in front of him.” 

“But you did during the war. I know, I watched it happen.” 

“That was different.” 

“ _Why_?” Burgie stressed, leaning towards him, taking one his hands in his. “Or did you just not think about it because of where you were?” 

It was like a light bulb flickering in his head. “…yeah. I guess so.” 

“Okay. So what makes you feel like anyone could see you at home with him, talking shit out and crying if you need to?” 

“I…I don’t know.” 

Burgie nodded. “That’s okay. You can figure that out later. You got time. You just can’t let it take over your head, y’know? Or let those nonsense fears that you know won’t ever be true or come to pass take control. You gotta focus on what you know is true. Tell me.” 

“What?” 

“Bout you and Eugene. What’s true, about you two.” 

“…I love him. He loves me.” 

Burgie nodded again, encouragingly.

“He makes me feel safe, and I do the same for him. We can both sleep without nightmares when we’re together. I don’t worry about anyone breaking in to kill us as much when he’s beside me at night. He likes to read to me, and I like to hear him read, even his stupid textbooks that are boring as shit. I like the chores he doesn’t, and vice versa so we always have an easy time keepin’ the apartment clean. He buys fresh flowers for me, but knows to keep ‘em in the high vase mounted on the wall where the cat can’t get ‘em, so she won’t eat ‘em and get sick. And I make sure he takes breaks when he studies, otherwise he won’t eat or move and that’s not good for him, and I know he knows that, but he gets goin’, ya know? And-” 

Burgie’s hug was warm and soft and made the tears finally fall. 

“Let’s get you home, and go talk to Eugene, okay? He needs to hear all that, and I know he’s got a bunch of the same sort of stuff to tell you.” 

“You think that therapist has openings sooner rather than later?” 

“She let me set up the first appointment for y’all, though you gotta fill out a bunch of paperwork that day so they can finish gettin’ you set up in their system. But I got y’all in next week.” 

The tears fell all the way back home, in the passenger seat of Burgie’s truck, and fell even harder like a summer storm when Eugene met him on the sidewalk of the apartment building property, running out to hug him so hard it took his breath away.

“I’m sorry.” 

“So am I.” 

“I’m ready to do better. For both of us,” his voice shook as he let his head rest on Eugene’s shoulder. 

“Me too.” 

The scent of the tulips Eugene had bought him greeted them as they walked inside to their apartment, Burgie right behind them, and it smelled like spring and freshness and a new start. 

Tulips would be a good wedding flower, for later. For a spring wedding, when they were ready and healthier and happy and doing better overall. He’d make sure the church (for Eugene, with his religious family) was full of them. 

He couldn’t wait for it all, the work towards better as hard as it would be, and the wedding. 

They were going to be okay. 


End file.
